Vulnerable
by LSR-7
Summary: Spoilers:2.03 Red Badge. What may have happened in Lisbon's home before the therapist came. One shot complete. Please Read and Review.


**Vulnerable**

**Disclaimer:** The Mentalist show and characters are the property of Bruno Heller, Primrose Hill Productions, Warner Bros. Television and I'm sure others. I am not profiting from this story.

**Spoilers:** Ep. 2.03 Red Badge

**Summary:** Takes place during Red Badge. What may have occurred before Lisbon arrested her therapist in her home.

**Author's Notes:** This is my first Mentalist fanfic and first fanfic I've written in more than a year or two. I'm a bit rusty at this writing business, but after coming back from Japan and becoming addicted to the Mentalist I was hit with this and needed to write… or rather type.

***

"You need to look vulnerable, but also a woman on the lam, or ready to be."

"Jane, I think I got it."

An irritated Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon led the way into her home, jerking out her key from the front door and throwing a glare to the consultant right behind her. He had managed to convince her (through no great effort, evidence of Lisbon's waning mental fortitude) the necessity of his presence in her home for when her psychiatrist shows up. As security against possible mental tricks as well as extra hands to help her take the malpracticing shrink into custody.

Lisbon had wanted another agent on hand, but grudgingly agreed to Jane being in the apartment as it would take a hypnotist to catch another at their mind games. Though secretly Lisbon reasoned with herself that it would be easier with Jane close by as he had a better handle on the situation and what has been happening to her. So they settled with Jane in her apartment and Agent Cho waiting in an unmarked car down the street, watching the building and ready to come in.

By the time Lisbon had closed and locked her front door Jane was already scoping out her living room, having taken the liberty of turning on the room's lights.

"Hey! Put that down!"

Lisbon marched right over to Jane, who held a wooden photo frame, and pulled it carefully out of his hands. She briefly inspected it as if for damage, then gently placed it in its original spot next to the lamp on her desk. Lisbon's face had softened from the "exasperated mother bear" look to a wistful one. In Jane's opinion her expression was bordering too close to the depression she was battling for his taste. Another look at the photo afforded him the view of what was clearly a picture of mother and her baby, perhaps taken hours after the infant's birth if the baby's red face and very delicate size were anything to go by. Were it not for the faded color of the photo and what he knew about Lisbon, Jane would have thought the CBI agent was the mother in the picture.

"You look just like your mother," the consultant quietly commented, his hands now in his trousers' pockets.

Lisbon looked up from her desk, glancing over at the man beside her, and after deciding he didn't have a hidden agenda with his comment, replied, "So I've been told."

"So getting back to the show you'll be putting on," Jane broke the mood, his eyes lighting up as he warmed to his subject. Lisbon groaned, rolling her eyes, arms crossed in front of her.

"Jane! I got it. I'm ready for this, you just need to go wait upstairs until he comes here and let details of the murder slip. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'll be fine without you. I'll cuff the quack and Cho is ready to come in and take him," Lisbon impatiently said. She started stalking away from him and towards the kitchen when he said, "But for it to be believable, not saying you don't make a wonderful actress, you mustn't forget the proper attire," he caught up to her in the kitchen, leaning his hip against the counter to her left as she opened a cupboard he had suspected she would have placed her liquor. Lisbon pulled out a bottle half full of amber liquid. Bingo.

She glanced up at him, a brow raised and lips slightly pulling to the side which caused a wrinkle in her cheek that Jane thought was quite endearing. The current look she was giving him was one of skepticism. An expression he was quite familiar with, especially on her face, though not as much as her glaring and scowling. When everything was back to normal he needs to do something to cause that scowl, or that rare glorious smile that deepened the not-quite-dimple laugh line in her right cheek … he needed to focus.

"If the guy comes in expecting to see you on edge and breaking down, especially after that performance in the office… nice touch with the chair by the way," he flashed her a grin, her raised eyebrow quirked and she gave him a nod, he continued, "seeing you in business attire will send him a visually guarded message, though it may not be at the fore front of his mind. We need to hit him with everything you've got if we want it all out tonight. Dress down, like you would on a relaxing Sunday. Perhaps getting ready to sit on your couch for some ice cream and TV, like you do after work."

"How did you-? Never mind," Lisbon abruptly stopped her question. She didn't much care for stroking his big ego on his correct assumptions. He already had a self satisfied grin and twinkle in his eye. She took the bottle of alcohol and set it out in the living room and headed up the stairs to her room to change. She didn't like admitting it, but she did eventually listen to Jane's "suggestions", that or he'd go behind her back and do something outrageous himself (and more often than not, recruit her team to help him).

Lisbon came back down the stairs and followed the sounds of dull metallic clattering from the kitchen. Her eyes were greeted by the domestic sight of one Patrick Jane preparing tea for himself, completely at home. Though not an unusual activity for the consultant (he always managed to find tea in anyone's home, much to the disbelief of previous suspects, victims, and witnesses as he would then serve himself their tea), it was just bizarre to see someone else in her living quarters moving about comfortably as though he lived there. At the same time he filled an unacknowledged void.

Jane turned, likely to go to the refrigerator, and stopped. His eyebrows arced up, mouth the slightest bit open, in surprised appreciation.

She walked into the kitchen, opening up the liquor cabinet, pulling out another bottle, reminding herself why she was dressed like she was, if only to stop from blushing. The heavy glass weighing down her hand was enough to sober her from any possible light feelings. Especially with meds in her other hand.

Jane heard the distinctive sound of pills in a plastic bottle, but before he could ask or see what she had brought, static from the walkie-talkie at his hip burst out with Cho's voice, "Get in position. Target's car approaching."

Lisbon looked up from the counter top of her kitchen, turning to face Jane. She looked absolutely vulnerable in her red jersey that barely skirted her naked thighs. Perfect.

"Take your tea upstairs," Lisbon ordered, her voice gone soft. Her eyes became desolate as her thoughts turned inwards in what Jane deduced was not just her getting into acting mode, but her connecting with a dark corner of her mind she usually had partitioned off, not forgotten, but desperately ignored. The walls around it have been cracking the past month, and widening as she reached in.

Jane grew more concerned with her behavior, but brushed past her to retrieve his tea, moving the kettle and turning off the stove top. Passing her again to head upstairs to wait he allowed himself to briefly touch Lisbon's shoulder as his eyes connected with hers and said, "Be careful."

She gave him a nod, not quite ready to admit to herself that she was slightly disconcerted by the true concern the oft jaded former psychic was displaying for her. He turned away to continue walking to the stairs. Now it was up to her.


End file.
